


Stories and Tales

by DiscipleOfBrad



Series: Winter and Fire [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Companion Piece, F/M, Fluff, Go read that first, Reminiscing, Set in another story, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscipleOfBrad/pseuds/DiscipleOfBrad
Summary: A companion piece to 'Bruda'. I'd recommend reading that first although it's a long story otherwise you won't know who one of the characters is. You could use this though to see if you want to read the larger story if you don't mind a couple of spoilers. Set in Chapter 43, Daenerys Targaryen takes the opportunity to reflect on her journey in the company of her closest friends.
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: Winter and Fire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721959
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Stories and Tales

**Author's Note:**

> Yes! If you didn't know, Bruda is getting some more works added to make it a series. Work now begins on the sequel! It'd be greatly appreciated if you hit the kudos button and leave a comment so I know people want more Throne stories from me. Enjoy this rather sweet tale and follow me on Twitter at @matthewholmes45 to get announcements about the series

The castle grounds of Winterfell were as quiet as they had been for a very long time. The wildling men and women had recently left, heading back to the Wall and beyond to reach their long-abandoned homes now the awful war was over with. Jon Snow had followed them on the bequest of Tormund Giantsbane, taking with him a new recruit in Sandor Clegane. The Hound had wanted a new life and had seen this as the perfect opportunity. He would also be a useful asset for the Free Folk due to his stature and large physical build. Daenerys Targaryen had been sad to see so many people leave, people who had helped them face Death and come out the other side relatively unscathed. They’d suffered a great number of losses, that was for sure. But they’d never expected to win, not truly, not deep down if they were being brutally honest with themselves. So for them to be still standing, that was a great victory. Her sights were now on the next victory in her sights, claiming the Iron Throne that was destined to be hers after so many years of torment. That could wait though. Now was the time to take stock before they too left the Northern stronghold.

The inky black sky stretched out above them, blinking stars looking down upon them. She’d taken a larger interest in those mystifying distant objects after a conversation with her wonderful warlock, Bruda. He believed that, when people died, their stories played out amongst the celestial bodies for everyone else to see for the rest of time. Although it was heavily romanticised and poetic as a concept, especially for the usually gruff old man, she’d taken a lot of comfort in the notion. It had become one of her favourite pastimes, something she often did with Bruda or, more often than not, her true love Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. She’d initially been forced to make him join her, her knight claiming that he should have been focusing on protecting her, but now she felt that he enjoyed it just as much as her. 

They were sitting near the camps that housed the thousands of soldiers that had fought by her side and would do the same when they reached King’s Landing. It was a peaceful location with the echoes of laughter coming from the tents and the views were much more pleasant than when they were behind the castle walls. A fire was lit, thanks to the mage, which was providing the necessary warmth they needed. The two men had planned to sit outside with Davos Seaworth, another of her close advisors, swapping tall tales until the sun rose. She knew that they wouldn’t last that long since they were older than they cared to remember but she had still politely asked to join them. Jorah had immediately agreed since she had trained him well, even if Bruda had claimed she might ‘cramp their style’. When she had promptly glared at him with her most fearsome of looks and hit him on the arm, he had been sensible enough to acquiesce.

“Go on then,” she said with a smile. “I want to hear the grandest of tales from each of you. Now’s the chance to entertain me and tell me more about your past. Your Queen demands it, good sers.” Jorah chuckled by her side, enjoying the times when she let down her guard as it was a very rare occurrence. An obsession with destiny would do that to anyone.

“I think you see us as more interesting men than we actually are,” Bruda commented with a smirk before taking a sip from his metal tankard. Some of the golden liquid dribbled down his grey and white bushy beard and Daenerys grimaced as he simply wiped it away with his hand. She would take it upon herself to teach him some more manners if he was to sit on Council. 

“Oh no, not you. I’ve known for ages that you’re actually quite boring.” His eyes lit up dangerously, knowing what she was doing. She was riling him up, a talent she often used against him. She gave him a sweet smile as the two men beside them leant back and enjoyed the show. 

“Challenge accepted, your  _ Grace _ .” The title was laced with sarcasm, even if it was done good naturedly. Jorah had never really understood their relationship - they always loved to annoy one another. He realised that Daenerys must have found it brilliant to have someone who was willing to speak his mind to her, everyone else scared to insult her. He was either brave or stupid or, quite possibly, both. “Ooo, I’ve lived a very long life. Where do you want me to start?”

“I’d ask about your childhood but I doubt that you remember any of it since it was so long ago.”

“Too true. All I know is that I was probably a proper scamp. Getting into trouble just because it was something to do.”

“Going around pulling all the girls’ pigtails because you were too shy to actually speak to them.” He tried to look offended.

“I would do no such thing! Terrible creatures. I can face an army of the dead, great big lumbering giants...even a dragon! But I tremble at the thought of facing a woman scorned.” Jorah and Bruda raised their own cups, clinking them together in agreement. The former tried to ignore Daenerys’ mock glare. 

“And yet you fell in love,” she noted with a warm look. She loved it when he reminisced about this aspect of his past life. It made him seem so...human when he always embodied something much more spectacular.

“And yet I fell in love. Because I’m as big a fool as they come.”

“Why not delight us with a tale from your time with Isabella?” 

“Well, there are quite a few. I guess I could spare one. I need to make sure I have some left over just in case you get rid of me for growing tedious.” She knew that would never happen. “Okay then. There was one thing that she truly loved. A green apple. Now, they were a very rare commodity when I was...courting her, especially here in the North. But there was one orchard near where she lived that claimed to have the best apples that money could buy. It just happened that neither of us had a lot of money, really. I’d tried to actually conjure up an apple for her but she claimed that it couldn’t compare to the taste of one freshly picked from a tree. She would laugh at my grumblings and thank me anyways, still enjoying the treat even if it wasn’t the perfection she deserved. So I hatched a plan.” He stopped to take another sip. Daenerys could tell he was doing it on purpose to draw out the suspense. She contemplated whether she should call Drogon over to persuade him more effectively to get on with it.

“It was this large chap who owned the small farm. Obsessed with profit like so many people were. I’d asked politely whether he could spare one for me and he shut the door on me without any words spoken.” They wondered what the warlock’s version of politeness entailed. “We came up with the idea that she could sneak into the gardens whilst I distracted him. She discovered a rotten bit of wood in the fence that she could squeeze through. She had a very slight figure, you see.” His eyes misted over for a second as if he was thinking back on what she looked like. “It was just up to me to occupy him. He very nearly closed the door on me when he saw me but I managed to stop him when I promised I could show him something truly spectacular. People back then were quite simple minded, a trait that is still common.” He glanced at Jorah, who kicked up some dirt in his direction for the insult. “It was a simple trick that I did. Took a piece of cloth and made it hover slightly in the air. I couldn’t do anything extravagant lest he branded me a grotesque monster or something. Let me tell you, he was enthralled! Absolutely captivated. All Isabella had to do was take an apple and run.”

He started to chuckle to himself. “Only it had been raining quite heavily the night before and she managed to slip in a patch of mud. Right into a box of apples, sending them tumbling everywhere! It was a right commotion and she couldn’t have made a louder racket if she tried. He was going to investigate and only the gods know what he would have done to her. I only had one option. I knocked him out without a moment’s thought. He had a rather large bruise afterwards but he couldn’t remember a single thing. We managed to put the apples back, she got to sneak a few and we thought we’d gotten away with it. Until I took her home and her father saw the state she was in, covered head to foot in dirt! I wasn’t allowed to see her for a week!” They all laughed as he finished his tale, picturing how grumpy he must have been. “And, just to think, the piece of cloth came from my cloak. That was the first time I had to patch it up.” He looked at his new one, still getting used to it.

“You have always been such a romantic,” Daenerys said. “Who would have known? Going to such lengths for a piece of fruit!”

“I’ve always had my priorities right.”

“Which must explain how you have put Melisandre under your spell,” Davos joked. “Going above and beyond.”

“She didn't stand a chance, did she?” Bruda responded with a bark of laughter. 

“Although I still fear that I should warn you about her. I’ve seen her do...unspeakable things. I don’t want you to get involved in such dark sorcery.”

“I am grateful for your concern, Seaworth. I don’t know the full extent of what she has done in the past but I bet it does not compare to some of the things I’ve done. And she is no longer under the influence of that  _ Lord of Light _ . She’s just under my influence now.”

“I don’t know which is worse!”

“How is it with you and her?” Daenerys wondered, trying to go about it with a casual air. She still didn't fully like the fact that he had another woman in his life. 

“You’re always so interested. I’m sorry Jorah but I think your love is jealous.”

“I am not jealous, you scoundrel! Do not flatter yourself so much.”

“I think she protests too much. Don’t you, gentlemen?” As Jorah and Davos smiled, pleased to see the two of them acting like normal people for once, Daenerys felt a blush colour her cheeks.

“Where is she anyway?” she asked, trying to change the conversation quickly for her own sake.

“Resting. I would have liked it if she could have joined us but she still hasn’t fully recovered from bringing me back and we have an early start tomorrow morning. I’d rather that she get her energy back. And it means that I can speak my mind without worrying about her fury.”

“And what of mine?”

“I’ve faced your fury many times and still live to tell the tale. Either you’re not as scary as you claim to be or you have a soft spot for me.”

“Well, it definitely isn’t the former.” He winked as she admitted that. 

“Come on! We’re not out here just to listen to me, no matter how much I do love that happening.” He poked his staff in the direction of Jorah. “Your turn, Mormont. Bear Island. What was it like?”

“Cold,” came the simple response. 

“Colder than here?” Daenerys wondered as she brought her cloak tighter around her.

“Much. An unforgiving place if there ever was one. The nights were always longer than the days. We didn't have many luxuries. A singer would visit the island no more than once a year because it wasn’t worth the painful journey. Our main source of food was stew, packed full of whatever we could catch in the freezing ocean. No wonder Lynesse grew distant after our marriage and I made us go back there.” Daenerys put a comforting hand on his shoulder but Bruda just rolled his eyes.

“The whole point of this is to cheer ourselves up with stories,” he said. “Now I just feel sorry for you.”

“Behave!” Daenerys chastised him. He held his hands up in surrender.

“The most pleasant memory I have is when I went wandering around the island when I was quite young. It was night and I wasn’t supposed to be out. My father...this was well before he took the Black...said that it was far too dangerous. I’m sure he described it as such so that I would want to go out more. Build up character or something by facing something scary.”

“You were a rule breaker,” the warlock pointed out. “Just like me.”

“I think Daenerys has a type,” Davos said, surprising the young woman. He had been the last one she had expected to make such a remark. She couldn’t believe there was someone else now who was turning against her. 

“I remind Ser Davos of his place and encourage him not to make the same common mistakes as his dear friend here,” she replied, a mock stern tone in her voice.

“How come you’d hit me if I said something similar?” Bruda asked with a pout. 

“Because this is his first warning. You’ve been culpable too many times to count.”

“You’ll note then that you can carry on making such remarks without fear of her doing too much severe damage. Because she’s softer than she cares to admit.”

“I thought you wanted a story,” Jorah interrupted. Bruda waved his hands to tell him to continue. “So, I went out with nothing but a small sword that I practiced with during the day. I traversed through the thick forest that surrounds the Keep, scratching myself up quite bad, which would end up giving me away in the morning when I joined them for breakfast. But I kept going and I stumbled upon this hidden cove near the coast. It was so cold that the small waterfall there was frozen over and I thought it was the most beautiful sight I’d ever laid my eyes upon. Of course, I did not have the true concept of beauty in my head as I do now.” He glanced at Daenerys who blushed deeply. Bruda pretended to be sick.

“So smooth,” he complimented. “You’re going to get rewarded tonight for that comment.”

“Why do you think he said it?” Davos added.

“There goes your second strike,” Daenerys warned.

“The cove,” Jorah said loudly to stop her attacking the two of them, “became my own personal haven. I didn't reckon anyone else knew about its existence. I set up forts to hide in and dummies to wield my sword against. I spent the majority of my time there when I wasn’t needed by my family although they didn't know where I went exactly. That was until my father went searching for me one evening and managed to find me. I was worried that he would tell me that I was being foolish and wasting my time, not being a true Mormont. I was scared that he would say that I could no longer escape to my own world. But he didn't. He was just relieved to see me. He didn't show many emotions but I remember that moment vividly. Letting me have that cove to myself was the nicest thing he ever did for me. He even visited a few times to see how my sword handling was. He was a good man.”

“He would be proud of you,” Daenerys reassured him. 

“Maybe.”

“I know you feel like you betrayed him. You may have done. But if he could see you now, sitting here after defending your kingdom against the creatures he eventually swore to stand against...he would be proud.”

“Quick, Davos,” Bruda urgently said. “Tell us something before this evening becomes too emotional.”

“I’m afraid to say that my life wasn’t that interesting,” he said as he looked at the bottom of his cup. 

“Don’t be absurd! You were a smuggler. Something entertaining must have happened.”

“Don’t be shy now,” Daenerys goaded him. He sighed as he began to think back to his less than legal past.

“Fine. There’s one moment I remember that I bet you’ll find funny, even though, at the time, I was less than amused. The key thing about smuggling is that you leave the main ship far away from the coast so that there’s less chance of being spotted. Across the Free Cities, this is much easier than, say, doing the same in Blackwater Bay. I was the one who had to row myself in a tiny little boat with the bounty, as inconspicuously as I could. It was one time when we were in Myr. I get into my rowboat, push off and get a certain distance before I notice something is wrong. Someone hadn’t checked the state it was in so I had to find out that there was a hole in the bottom! It’s too far to go back to the ship but it probably won’t get to the coast either. So I stuffed the jewels and gold I was smuggling into my pockets, abandoned ship and started swimming. I was absolutely drenched by the time I got to land.” Bruda was laughing hard as he pictured the poor man in such a state of distress. 

“I bet you were a right sight!” he commented.

“That’s not even the end of it. The person I was dealing with had a small boat. Nothing fancy but better than what I normally had access to. It was the only way that I could get back soon enough. I made the deal but  _ forgot _ to hand him one piece of jewellery. As he started to walk away, I began to run in the opposite direction, waving this necklace in the air. I threw it over to him to distract him long enough and clambered into the boat and safety. Sadly for him, I’d thrown a rock at him instead of the necklace, which I kept for myself for a future profit.”

“Ser Davos! I never knew you could be so scheming,” Daenerys said in faux shock. He took it as a compliment. 

“Well, I haven’t been allowed back into Myr since. Although my face has changed so much since then that I reckon no one would recognise me. The one plus side of ageing, I’d say.”

“Here, here,” Bruda concurred with his cup raised high. Daenerys arched an eyebrow at him.

“You haven’t actually given me a specific figure, Bruda,” she commented.

“What do you mean?”

“Your age. How old are you truly?”

“Do you ask everyone such rude questions?”

“I am your Queen. You are duty bound to answer me.”

“Playing that card, are we?”

“You’re caught now, Bruda,” Jorah told him. “It’s easier to just give in when she wants to know something.”

“Maybe for you. But she’s had her claws in you for years. I’m less manipulable.”

“Claws?” she almost shouted, quickly glancing at her fingers.

“...like a dragon,” he managed to say, thinking on the spot. “Take it as a compliment.” He could tell that she hadn’t fallen for the distraction. “I honestly can’t remember how old I am. It’s a miracle my mind is as intact as it currently is. Hundreds of years, I’d say. It must be a long time for me to have become so charming. This doesn’t exactly happen overnight.”

“I couldn’t imagine forgetting something like that.” She sounded sad as she stared at him, seeing the burden he secretly was under.

“It’s not the most important thing in the world. Please don’t feel sorry for me. I really hate sympathy.”

“Tough. You have mine. You may act brave all the time but I know that you still have troubles deep down. You can talk to us if you need to.”

“Troubles? I’ve managed to live a very long life. I was lucky enough to find Isabella and then lucky enough to find you. If they are troubles, then I must be incredibly fortunate.” He smiled at her, his age showing for a brief moment. She always forgot that he wasn’t as young as he pretended to be since he was usually so full of energy. If it weren’t for the wild beard and hair that framed his face, she doubted she would believe him at all. “Now, are we going to be so lucky that our Queen tells us a wee story from her childhood? I can picture it, you being this curious young girl that all the boys in town had affections for.”

“I hardly noticed other boys at such a tender age, thank you. What do you see me as?” The warlock made the correct choice in not answering. “In truth, Viserys wouldn’t have allowed me to speak to anyone else in case I became tempted and managed to dirty the pure Targaryen line.” She rolled her eyes, thinking back to how scared she had once been of him, before she had faced much greater terrors. It made it clear how much she had grown as a person and a ruler. “Even back then, he was obsessed with the idea of one day returning to rule. Master Illryrio did tend to encourage his wild dreams because it was easier than telling it was an unrealistic goal.”

“Not so unrealistic, your Grace,” Davos noted. “Since you’re about to accomplish what he wanted to do.”

“That’s still yet to be determined. I won’t believe it until King’s Landing is under my control.” Jorah took her hand and rubbed it.

“You’re normally a lot more confident than this.”

“Maybe because we’re so close now. We leave tomorrow. When our focus shifted to the White Walkers, it was almost easy to forget what lay ahead. Possibly because I doubted we would make it through that war in the first place.”

“When did you start thinking you could do this?” Bruda wondered curiously. “Take the throne and the kingdom that was yours.”

“I always had to listen to my brother talk about it. It was only natural for my head to be full of similar pictures, just with me in his place. When someone is so young, they don’t have the worries and concerns that come with age. The knowledge that it wasn’t agreeable for a woman to rule. I saw it as perfectly normal. And I still do, for that matter. I started to truly believe when Viserys died and Drogo promised me he would win the Throne.” Her eyes turned sad as she thought about her first true love. When he had died in such an awful and undignified manner, she had never thought she would love again. When she looked at the three men sitting around her, she saw that she had more love than she could have ever dreamed.

“I bet he was a great man. I would have loved to have met him.”

“You probably would have said something unadvised and he would have had your tongue.”

“He must have definitely been a great man then if he could have laid a hand on me.”

“If it weren’t for him, I would never have gotten my dragons in a sense. Since they came as a wedding gift. When they hatched, I realised that I had a greater purpose. I remember when Drogon first cooked his own meat under my instruction - the fact that I could teach such a beast to do something even as small as that gave me the hope that I could accomplish a lot more.”

“And look where that got you! Sat in the cold with the company of three sour, old men.” 

“I’m not sour!” Davos complained.

“You accept being old though?”

“I can’t deny what my face looks like. Despite all of my efforts. 

“I wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else. I will remember this moment for as long as I live,” Daenerys assured her companions.

“And let that be a very long time,” Jorah said as she rested her head on his shoulder. She was right. She was shocked that she could have moments like this, where she didn't have a care in the world. She could get used to this. Once the throne was hers, she would try to make more time for conversations like this. When she could enjoy being alive instead of worrying about outside forces. That would come when the Throne was hers but that could wait for the time being. She would enjoy the rest of this evening and the stories they had to tell her.


End file.
